


0:59

by midmorning_bomb



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes Live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midmorning_bomb/pseuds/midmorning_bomb
Summary: Derek’s Hallowe’en party isn’t an actual Hallowe’en party. It’s an emergency pack meeting he called the Friday before Hallowe’en.He didn’t want to have a pack meeting in the month of October, period. Because he’s an idiot who bit a bunch of teenagers five years ago, and every Hallowe’en since they come to his place, wear stupid, “sexy” costumes, and eat all his candy. They put on shitty werewolf movies and make out on his sofa and the floor is inevitably sticky the next morning.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 10
Kudos: 185





	0:59

Derek’s Hallowe’en party isn’t an actual Hallowe’en party. It’s an emergency pack meeting he called the Friday before Hallowe’en.

He didn’t want to have a pack meeting in the month of October, period. Because he’s an idiot who bit a bunch of teenagers five years ago, and every Hallowe’en since they come to his place, wear stupid, “sexy” costumes, and eat all his candy. They put on shitty werewolf movies and make out on his sofa and the floor is inevitably sticky the next morning.

Last year, Lydia and Allison dressed up as “sexy” succulents. Erica, a “sexy” lumberjack. Scott and Stiles came as a “sexy” Bert and Ernie and Derek just can’t this year, okay? He doesn’t have enough scare quotes or fucks to give to make it through another night of tacky costumes and lust stink all over his favourite reading chair.

There’s a _fext_ , of all things, in the preserve, so Derek doesn’t get to have nice things like a quiet evening with a bag of discounted candy and a book.

Deaton dropped off a dozen blessed glass bullets earlier, on his way to a Samhain celebration and thankfully dressed up like the regular kind of druid.

Peter is the first to arrive. He tosses Derek a bag of molasses kisses as he passes, smirk firmly in place.

Derek frowns and makes a faint noise of disgust, “Why would you bring these? You hate molasses kisses. _Everyone_ hates molasses kisses.”

Peter settles onto the staircase and nods, “Huh. I saw them and thought of you.”

Erica, Boyd and Isaac come in next, soon followed by Lydia, Allison, Scott and Jackson. His loft is now filled with slutty vampires, skimpy witches, and... and Derek really never needed to see Scott in an Abraham Lincoln costume that involves fishnet stockings, ever.

They’re just waiting on Stiles now, and Derek almost misses it because Peter starts choking on his drink. Lydia has a smug look watching him, and tilts her head to ask, “Have trouble swallowing, Peter?”

Erica laughs and gives Stiles a high five and Scott looks confused.

“Dude, how are tight jeans and a v-neck sweater a costume? ...Are you trying to grow a goatee? What are you supposed to be?”

“Dude.” Stiles gestures up and down his body, “sexy zombie.”

Stiles and Allison are the only ones who can shoot, so they split into two groups. Derek, Peter, Erica, and Boyd head out with Stiles, while Scott, Jackson, Lydia and Isaac join Allison. If there’s a fext, that means there are at least three warlocks also lurking in the preserve.

Derek asked Peter once if things were like this growing up, and he just didn’t realize it. Peter snorted and assured him that Beacon Hills always has been, and always will be, an absolute horror show.

Derek notices Peter sticking closer to Stiles than usual, as they make their way through the woods, lit by the waxing gibbous moon. He notices, he’s just trying really hard not to think about it, or smell it, or see the rising blush on Stiles’ cheeks. Erica leers, while Boyd just gives him a commiserating pat on the shoulder.

Derek isn’t worrying about Peter and Stiles for long, because the deeper they get into the preserve, the more pervasive the smell of rot becomes. It’s stifling, like rancid meat and old death. Even Stiles’ human senses are affected, while Erica tries not to gag.

They enter a clearing of... well at some point, Derek assumes the assembled parts would equal three or more warlocks. The fext is perched on a rock, picking between its sharp teeth with a broken bone. The loose rags around its wrists and chest are wet with gore, and cling to the outline of its ribs and bony arms.

The fight is disgusting. Stiles has six shots, but the fext is too fast. The ground is slick with blood, littered with warlock limbs and other assorted parts. Boyd and Peter finally manage to hold down the creature as it rattles out growls with teeth gnashing. Stiles stalks over and unloads two bullets into the head, and four into where a heart should be.

Deaton didn’t inform Derek when he dropped off the bullets that the fext are the kind of monster that bursts when you kill them.

Erica does gag, now, shrieking that she’s pretty sure she got some _brains_ in her _mouth_.

Peter adjusts his jaw while using his handkerchief to wipe viscera off of his face.

Stiles shrugs, looking down at his gore-covered sweater and taking out his phone to check in on the other group. “I guess this adds a realistic element to my costume. Hey, it’s 0:59! Happy Hallowe’en!”

He beams at Derek, who rolls his eyes along with Boyd.

Derek figures one bright side to this is everyone has to go to their own homes to clean up, which means he can go back to the loft to sleep and not have to listen to Scott bitch to Isaac about his stockings pulling at his leg hair. Derek shudders and considers leaving to visit Cora next October.

Peter offers (only) Stiles a ride, so Derek is stuck giving Erica and Boyd a lift to their respective homes. By the time he gets back to the loft, he's exhausted and has fext blood in places he doesn’t want to think about.

Instead of peace and quiet, he finds Stiles and Peter making out on his favourite goddamn chair, with _WolfCop_ playing on the tv in the background. He snarls and throws a handful molasses kisses at them and stomps off to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> A (very quick and dirty) Hallowe'en short inspired by the trick or treat candy I love that [everyone else hates](https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/kitchener-waterloo/andrew-coppolino-kerr-molasses-kiss-candy-1.3827136). I cleaned up on Hallowe'en candy trades growing up. I usually try and keep these pretty American, but this time you get molasses kisses and _WolfCop_.
> 
> [0:59](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jU4TpCZxBc).


End file.
